Full Disclosure
by amy like the pond
Summary: OK, so... full disclosure: I think I'm going to fall in love with her. Nick shares his fears of falling for Jess with the guys, and thus the no-nail contract is born. NickJess.


**an- **this here oneshot is about the origins of the no-nail contract. for some reason, i had a real hard time writing what wasn't dialogue, so... yeah, sorry if this is kind of weird. also, coach was only in the pilot so... technically, can he even be ooc? but i'm super proud of this so haha here you go. AND THAT LATEST EPISODE, AMIRIGHT?

* * *

**full disclosure**

It's a Saturday night and all three boys have stricken out. Meaning Schmidt, Coach and Nick are moping at the kitchen island, drowning their sorrows in liquor. Schmidt seems the most deflated out of the three of them- his face is sticky with white wine, and it's dripped all over his new cardigan. He's too upset to even clean himself up, which is definitely a low for him.

"Her legs were so long. She was like a tropical play-park. I was gonna slide down _and_ up those things."

"Jesus Christ!" Coach groans.

"Too much! Too much!" cries Nick, covering his ears with his hands, but Schmidt carries on, unfazed.

"I can't believe we've had a female roommate for a week now, yet no cigar."

"I don't think that's how that phrase works," Coach frowns, taking a huge gulp of his beer.

"That not withstanding-"

"Have you forgotten how to speak English?"

"Jess moving in has _not_ had the desired effects. Her model friend is going to take months to wear down-"

Coach laughs loudly, but Schmidt hardly seems hurt. "You laugh now, giant friend, but Courtney and I are going to make sweet, sweet love. Hopefully, repeatedly."

Slowly, Nick brings his hands down from his ears and wraps them around his beer bottle.

"Her name's _Cece_," Coach points out, but Schmidt just shrugs.

"Nick's seen my magic more often than you- he believes me, don't you buddy?"

Nick looks up. "Sure I do, Schmidt." At Schmidt's beaming face, he makes a clarification, "And that's me-talk for no. Never. You are never sleeping with that woman."

"Your words only make me stronger. In fact, your negativity just tabooed it. Our bodies colliding in an enjoyable fashion has now become an inevitability, so thank you for that."

"Any time, bro," Nick shrugs, trying not to comment on his friend's phrasing. Something much more pressing was on his mind- much more pressing than the red-head st the bar who wouldn't give him a second look, anyway.

Sitting up straight, Nick casually clears his throat.

"Listen, about Jess..." His two friends look toward him, and he feels his feet grow cold every passing second. _Keep it cool, keep it casual._

Casually, he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rubs at an imaginary crick.

"Uh... I was thinking... I... feel like we need to set some ground rules."

Schmidt raises an eyebrow. "We've already established no leaving tampons around, no pets and no stealing our underwear. What else could there possibly be?"

Nick closes his eyes, breathes, and shrugs. Casually.

"OK, so, full disclosure- I think I'm gonna fall in love with her."

Nick tries not to wince as the announcement produces two drunken groans of disbelief. Schmidt hits the surface in exasperation as Coach's eyes roll back into his head.

"Oh, come on, Nick! Jess?" Schmidt demands. "Are you being serious right now? She's not even your preferred bra-size!"

Nick does wince at this, but more out of second-hand embarrassment- which is actually _always_ the case with Schmidt.

"What do you know about my preferred bra-size, man?"

Schmidt clicks his tongue impatiently and sighs. "How many times do I have to say this? You're my best friend, knowing these things is my job. And I'm not a slacker, unlike some." Nick counts to three in his head.

"And by some I mean you," Schmidt adds, right on cue, "because you obviously have no idea about my preferences, and, quite honestly, I'm stung. But, I guess, this is the _oaf_ I've chosen to love-"

Nick rolls his eyes, unable to stop himself. "Oh, shut up, you idiot. Being my friend shouldn't be a _job_- Plus, 'preferred bra sizes' aren't a thing. _Plus_, I don't _know_ bra sizes! For the longest time I thought cup sizes were actually the first letter of the girl's name!"

"Zooey," Coach whispers, but Schmidt brushes it away with a hand.

"Also," Nick adds as an afterthought, "how do you know her bra size?"

"Oh," Schmidt exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air, "so the laundry is done magically around here, I see how it is-" And then, getting back on track, "We're living with her, you knob! What the hell makes you think you'll 'fall in love with her? It's not cute. Our life here hasn't been some long prologue to a porno, by the way."

Coach pulls a face, and Nick squirms, trying to remember the speech he had planned. Oh, wait, he didn't, because he never planned _anything_.

"Well, reasons..." he begins, trying to sound official. "One, she's a woman..." he says, thinking that's a pretty good start, "two, her room is right across the hall from mine. That's bound to create some adorable morning moments involving tousled hair and sleepy smiles."

"Ugh, I can't believe you."

"You're not even a morning person!" Coach protests.

"She's broken sunshine and still going strong, dudes," Nick insists. "There's something admirable about it."

"Broken sunshine?" Schmidt squints. "What is your problem?"

"I'm just saying, she smells nice."

"That's not all your _just saying_." He leans forward. "Nick, has she done something to you? She's flashed you, hasn't she? Unbelievable."

Nick ignores him. "You guys know how I feel about women. I like how fancy they are. And this one's softer than most."

"She's let you touch them, hasn't she!?" Schmidt demands, and Nick clenches his teeth.

"No, she hasn't let me touch them, Schmidt!"

Although he doesn't seem like he believes him, Schmidt breathes out and leans back. Then, quietly, "This is an outrage." Nick rolls his eyes, and Coach speaks up.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

Nick shrugs defensively. "Because it didn't cross my mind! To be honest, she pisses me off-"

"What?" Schmidt sighs loudly. "I'm so confused-"

"OK, no," Nick cuts him off. He shakes his head and tries to organize his thoughts. "I _do_ have an actual point..." he struggles to think of it, but gets there- almost triumphantly, he recites, "_And it is_: I fall in love with almost every woman I live in close quarters with." His expression grows melancholic. "Like Gretchen, the German exchange student when I was sixteen. Just ask Winston, or all my journals." He shrugs, moving on, "But I also know for a _fact_, Schmidt, that sooner or later you're gonna try to get into her in pants."

Schmidt falters visibly as realization crosses his features. "Ah," he says.

Nick turns to his other roommate. "Coach, you're just gonna break down and cry some night and she'll be the only one there to comfort you. You'll be a broken dove and she'll be your Snow White, and then you'll do something stupid, like touch her boob or something- and then you'll excuse yourself by saying that you're in love with her. And don't look at me like that, it's happened before."

Coach squirms in his seat and avoids looking either of his friends in the eye. "I don't... cry, man."

"What I'm saying is that we think we're immune now, because her dorkiness is off-putting. But I've seen at least three movies." Pause for dramatic effect. "She's gonna grow on us. Like mold."

"Sometimes I look at you and your non-existent writing career, and nod understandingly," Schmidt says. Before Nick can protest, he continues, "But I see where you're going. This is wise, Nick. Almost too wise." He raises his beer bottle and smiles from behind it. "I'm proud of you, bro. I'm proud of you and your forward thinking."

Nick tries to look modest. "Thanks, man. I do try. People think I don't try, but I do."

"I know that now," Schmidt says, and consequently brings out his smart phone. "So we gotta come up with a plan. A way to make her ugly."

Nick's smile wavers. "Wait, what?"

Schmidt types a few things into his phone, "We _could_ ban short skirts and yoga..."

"What? No! We're not banning either of those things."

"That's not fair, Schmidt," Coach agrees, and in response Schmidt throws his phone onto the surface.

"Well, I don't see either of you two coming up with anything."

"I think I've done enough thinking for one night," Nick defends himself.

Coach looks at him apprehensively. "You were thinking with your dick and made up for it in words."

"What? You take that back!"

"I will _not_ take that back until you say that I don't cry!"

Nick pauses. "Well... you do cry, man."

"You actually cry a lot," Schmidt pipes in. "It's actually _surprising_ how often you cry-"

"OK, fine, I get it!" Coach yells. Nick and Schmidt fall quiet and exchange glances. A beat, then, "Well, don't tear up about it."

Coach hits the table and stands up, knocking his chair to the ground. "Dammit, Schmidt!"

Nick snorts at Schmidt's frightened yelp, and it seems to be enough to satisfy his other friend. "OK, whatever, moving on," Schmidt says hastily, "I've been in a similar situation before-"

"You've had a female roommate before?" Nick asks skeptically.

"No- but once, Benjamin and I were both interested in the same woman. So we made a no-nail contract. Of course, he then went behind my back and nailed her anyways-" he brushes it away with a hand. "But _that's_ the beauty of the contract. If one of you nails her, the other participants in the contract have to, too."

"Oh, god," Coach groans.

"Well, that's a gross idea," Nick says, "we're not doing that."

"You guys are missing the point- none of us are as horrible as Benjamin is. If we've _signed_ something, I don't see how any of us would go near Jess like that. I mean, she's not that great. It's not like we're not going to be able to help ourselves."

Nick squirms uneasily at that, but neither of his friends notice.

"Hm," says Coach, his face contorting. "I think Schmidt's right." He seems genuinely surprised at what just came out of his mouth, and Nick raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know..."

Schmidt turns to him and leans forward.

"Listen, Nick, of course I'm right. We can add things to this contract. If there was money and betrayal involved, would you still consider 'falling in love' with our unfortunately feminine roommate?"

Nick frowns, considering. "I _do_ hate to lose money..."

"Yeah because you don't have any," Schmidt agrees.

"_And_ I hate drama."

"Last time we had a fight, you curled up into a ball on the carpet and covered your ears with your hands."

"Hm," Nick ponders. He looks at his other roommate, suddenly sharing his surprise. "Schmidt _might_ be right."

"You're damn right I am, bitches," Schmidt grins.

"Oh god," Nick groans.

"Let's do this!"

x

Nick is absolutely certain the contract won't work. But it's fine, like, he doesn't _care_. OK, so he cares a little. But, you know, it's OK. Nothing he can't deal with.

Except, one night, after hours at the bar, he has the overwhelming desire to warn her.

And maybe he's a little drunk.

OK, maybe he's _a lot _drunk. But his intentions are _sort of _pure- he just wants to warn her, get it out of the way. Just so that she's expecting it, you know? Just so that she can prevent it, if she wants. Like, stop shaving her armpits or something. Or get a shiny boyfriend. Ugh, Nick hates shiny boyfriends. He doesn't trust them, they're too shiny.

Anyway, Jess is sitting at the bar, Schmidt has gone off with some chick and Winston at the loft, sleeping. She stayed here, to keep him company. She stayed here for him. And it's after hours, so they're alone. And she's looking kind of pretty, and he can see it already. He can see himself pining after this girl, and it kind of makes himnauseous and angry. So maybe it comes out a little more vicious than he at first intended.

"Full disclosure: I'm _probably_ going to fall in love with you."

He's leaning towards her over the bar, and the lights are illuminating her face and hair and he can feel the alcohol buzzing through his brain and muddling his thoughts. She smells _really_ good.

She laughs nervously, but doesn't lean away. "Uh... What?"

"It's nothing personal," he assures her, "I just don't think you're ugly and we're sharing an apartment."

Jess does a double take. "Falling in love with me isn't personal?"

"Nope," Nick repeats, shaking his head. "Sorry. It's your bra-size."

A frown flies across her features, and _now_ she leans back.

"My br- Wait..." This time she laughs properly, a real laugh.

Yup. He can definitely see himself falling for that laugh.

"You're kidding, right?" she deduces, looking slightly pleased with herself. She raises her hands in surrender. "Spook the new girl with promise of sexual harassment!" She laughs again. "Lucky for you, I'm an _incredible_ judge of character-"

"Your boyfriend was cheating on you-"

"And I think you're all right, Miller."

Nick's features relax, and he feels a stupid smile take over his face.

"Yeah?"

Stupid, stupid.

He can feel himself falling so hard.


End file.
